Ashes
by vballmania23
Summary: AU-ish. "I walk outside into the sunshine, dragging my captive along. I had rescued him from his cell, saved him from the man who was planning on killing him. A timer counts down in my mind, has been counting ever since I had hooked it up." Varying POVs.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N 2:** I'd like to thank prone2dementia for pointing out my grammar mistake. I've read this story a few times and always missed it, so virtual kudos and a big thanks. It took me a while, but I finally got around to fixing it.

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I walk outside into the sunshine- the bright, cheerful sunshine, dragging my captive along. Except is he really a captive? I had rescued him from his cell, saved him from the man who was planning on killing him. A timer counts down in my mind, has been counting ever since I had hooked it up (30 seconds now). The canteens thump against my leg, sloshing around but never spilling, a counterpart to the numbers in my mind. The rhythm reminds me of the ones my mother and I would tap out. She would always hum a nursery rhyme to match it, always finding one that fit perfectly. After she died, I tried to recreate those moments, but I never seemed to be able to find a rhyme that fit the whimsical dancing of my fingers.

My not-captive is twisting, turning the arm in my grip (25 seconds). He wants to be free, to be away from the danger and death. Smart boy. But I won't let him go, not yet. The terrain is harsh out there, and he would certainly die unprepared unless he had the luck of the devil. Of course, with the stories that I hear about this teenage spy, he just might. The sun beats down on my neck, on my arms, on the stiff leather of my boots. Dust stirs up as we walk down the main road, little more than a path of dirt through more dirt.

_Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…_

They see me approach, dragging along someone behind me. The guards are confused, but wait for me to come to them (15 seconds). They are complacent and trust me. Foolish. Here is the gate, and here are the guards. Lift up the gun, and kill all the people. The two men go falling down, falling down. It's always curious how they move after death, with a boneless grace unhindered by nerves and pain and the rules of movement. It's rather like dancing.

_Here is the church and here is the steeple. Open the doors and see all the people… _

The not-captive is not moving. He's watching me with veiled fear. The unique sound of a body crumpling to the floor must have made an impression. He fears me, which is good, but which makes my heart ache. Can't he see I'm trying to help him? His brown eyes (like his father) squint against the burning sun, and he looks back towards the encampment again (10 seconds). He is longing to go back to the known peril, instead of facing the unknown. I tighten my grip on his arm, and continue walking.

_Catch a tiger by his toe…_

"Where are you taking me?" The not-captive speaks, voice panicked and trying hard to hide it. It is higher than a man's normally is, but then again he is just a boy in puberty. Perhaps it is cracking. No matter. Doesn't he know it won't help, that I can tell despite his bravado? (9 seconds). He tries to dig his feet in, to stop the march. But we can't stop it, not now. Soon it is going to rain fire and brimstone and searing pieces of metal.

_And they all go marching down to the ground to get out of the rain…_

We top the first dune, and the desert stretches out in front of us. There is no path, no man-made pointer to find our way. My not-captive stops struggling. The desert never seems to end, and I hold the keys to survival. I pause and turn around, facing the encampment. (4 seconds). He has to see for himself, so he can confirm it when they ask him. Yes, I did see it. I saw it happen and I saw the results and I can tell you nobody survived. He's giving me a questioning look, but he hasn't asked anything yet. He won't get time to. (1 second). Soon we'll be the only ones from the compound left.

_The clock struck one the mouse ran down…_

There is a pause like the calm before a storm, and then the buildings are hurtling through the air in tiny burning pieces and sound assaults our ears. A ball of fire blooms in the center then quickly spreads outward, destroying everything that had the audacity to stay attached to the ground. It's a roiling burning heaving mess, and a shockwave sends me and my not-captive tumbling down in the sand on the other side of the dune.

_Ashes, ashes, we all fall down…_

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**A/N:** Originally, this was going to be a very straightforward story. Alex (the not-captive) would be rescued by someone (the narrator) who would rig the building to explode. They would leave, and the compound would go boom. Simple plotline. And then I got the whole idea for relating it to nursery rhymes (which was more difficult to incorporate than it looks) and it kinda morphed and now the narrator is a lot crazier than I had originally anticipated. Anyways, please R/R. I accept anything, including flames.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** First, I would like to thank all of my reviewers. You guys are awesome :) And yes, the story originally was going to be a oneshot, but some reviewers said they would like a continuation. For a long time, I had no ideas, and then suddenly this hit. So tada, here is the second chapter, form Alex's POV. The next one should be a K-Unit one (because I just never get tired of those guys) although I haven't decided who. Possibly Snake, because from what I remember, he seems to get the least amount of publicity. Unfortunately the chapter probably won't be up until I'm struck with writer's block for my other story (for updates on that, see my profile) and need to write something. Anyways, to answer a question that many of you asked (Is the rescuer Yassen?)... I personally don't see him as that- just a nameless assassin who rescued Alex because of his own personal reasons. However, I do like to leave my stories open for interpretation, and since I don't specifically name the assassin, feel free to imagine him as Yassen :) It's really up to you. Now on to the story! I hope you enjoy :)

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The shockwave from the bomb sends me flying down the dune, tumbling head over heels as sand flies everywhere. I close my mouth tight and cover my eyes with my forearms, and just keep rolling. My rescuer has finally released his vise-like grip on my arm, and I am thankful for that one small mercy. There are small rocks embedded onto the surface of the dune, and my back gives a sharp throb as I roll over one sharpened edge. I'm going faster and faster, hurtling out of control, and shouldn't the dune have ended yet?

I kick out a leg to try and slow myself down, but it is a bad idea. My body is too heavy with gravity pulling down on it, my knee twists, and I'm now the leader of a small avalanche of sand. I'm too dizzy and disoriented to tell where it came from, but there is the sound of a sharp crack audible over the hissing of the sand. It might have been my leg, but there is no pain.

The land becomes rockier, small weeds now cropping up here and there as I go whirling by. Rationally, I know I've only been tumbling for a few seconds, but it seems like a lifetime. Suddenly, I'm rolling up towards the summit of the next hill for a second before I'm dragged down into the small valley once more. I lie there for a second, winded, before hesitantly uncovering my eyes.

The sun is still beating down like it was before the explosion, blinding me as I look straight up at it. My stomach is trying to rebel against me, and I hurriedly lurch to the side, willing my body to keep itself in check. I lie there, miserably, eyes closed and resting against my sweaty forearm. Sand is clinging to every inch of me; worming its way into the folds of my clothes, my mouth, my ears, between my fingers, my shoes. I catch my breath, then force myself to my feet. Not including myself and my rescuer, someone else might have escaped the bomb, and I didn't want to meet up with them in such a state.

I realize something's off when my rescuer isn't standing next to me, watching me with that unnerving and inscrutable expression on his face. I squint against the harsh sunlight, scanning the ground, and my eyes land upon a man-sized body sprawled awkwardly across the ground. It is my rescuer, neck tilted at a strange angle. A few feet above him, a large protruding rock lies gloomily in the sand. That explains the crack I had heard. I swallow my revulsion and inch closer to his body, survival instincts fighting with conscience as I raid the man's packs and clothes for supplies.

As I set off the sun is still high in the sky, branding its signature onto my exposed skin, and the compound burns behind me. Billowing smoke swirls above it before the wind snatches it up with greedy hands and carries it away, and I ignore that same wind as it throws sand into my narrowed eyes. The desert is stretching before me, but I set my jaw and slowly move one foot in front of the other. While traveling through a scalding desert during the day is idiotic, I need to be as far away from the compound as possible when someone comes looking. Thankfully, the very same wind that hinders me also covers up any sign of my presence, the whirling sand slowly settling over my footprints.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Well, this took forever. Quite frankly, I didn't think I'd ever finish it. But after an extended hiatus, it's finally done. Hope you enjoy it.

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The warm air hisses between my teeth as I breathe, tiny sand particles lodging in my teeth. I'm standing at the crest of the dune. The desert stretches in every direction, rolling up and down until it finally just blends into a single solid line in the distance. I look back at the still smoldering ruins then out at the desert again. The smoke that had alerted intelligence to its destruction has dissipated, leaving only a thin haze. Despite it, the afternoon sun still beats down, casting my shadow out ahead. It's pointing me onwards, towards my missing unit member. A second shadow looms up, and I glance to the left.

Next to me, Wolf scuffs his boot in the sand and scratches at day-old stubble. He tugs at the uncomfortably sweaty uniform, and squints at the sun-soaked expanse of sand. Of the four men in K-Unit, reunited for this mission, he's the one with the most trouble adapting to the hot desert environment we're working in.

Fox did it easiest. Currently he's crouching at the bottom of the dune, clearing a corpse of the thin layer of sand that has accumulated over it. I trace the corpse's path back up the dune, back to where it wasn't a corpse but a man. A rock catches my attention – or rather, the dull dried substance crowning it.

I half-walk half-slide down until my eyes are level with it. I try to brush away the sand, but it's clumped together and sticky with blood. The mixture coats a good portion of the jagged top, and now the very tips of my fingers. I frown distastefully and wipe it off on my BDUs. Snake walks down to join me, scrutinizing the rock with clinical interest. "That's most likely what killed him." Snake frowns as he looks harder at the dried blood.

A gust of wind stirs up the desert, sand drifting inch by inch across the area. Wolf stumbles down the dune, eyes squinting into the distance. "Any sign of Cub will be long gone by now," he tells us. "Our best chance is a grid search pattern by air. And even then…" Fox stands up from examining the body, grimly nodding in agreement with Wolf's unfinished sentence.

Even then, the chances of finding him alive are unlikely.

"There's only enough blood for one person," I offer weakly. We all know there's more way to die in a desert.

Fox trudges up the hill to where Snake, Wolf and I are standing. "We don't have any air support. Remember, we're technically not here."

I have to make a conscious effort to keep the scowl from my face. While Fox took to covert ops like a fish to water and Snake and Wolf don't seem to mind it, I can't stand the idea. Creeping around isn't why I joined the military. I feel ridiculous for even thinking it, but it just feels dishonest.

"We've only got four ATV's to search for Cub, so we've got to find his most likely path. We'll assume he didn't double back, and started out in a straight line. Since he –" Wolf gestured to the body below – " is the only one we've found outside of the blast radius, we'll assume this way was the only available exit and Cub came out the same way. That still leaves us a substantial amount of terrain to cover. The blast happened about three hours ago. We'll assume he's on foot. Eagle."

I'm always the unit's go-to guy for maths. I do a few quick calculations in my head. On average, it would take a boy his age about 10 minutes to walk a kilometer. But add the fact that he's in a desert with to water and might be injured, that number rises to 12 minutes per kilometer. So that would be 5 kilometers per hour. "That'd give us a search area with a length of fifteen kilometers, if he doesn't stop to rest."

Wolf checks his watch. His neutral scowl takes on a displeased edge. "We don't have enough time to search all that. There's an outcropping of rock ten and a half kilometers –" He eyes the compound behind him, undoubtedly visualizing the map he'd memorized during the plane ride. "That way. We'll rendezvous there. If he's further than that, let's hope he has sense enough to survive on his own."

This plan has a lot of 'ifs' and assumptions, but nobody mentions them; we already know, and there's nothing to fix the problem. It's better to just focus on what can reasonably be done, rather than what we're lacking.

We stomp around the dune to where our four dust-covered ATVs are waiting. "Fox and Eagle, take the outer left and right. Snake, you're on inner left. Keep you eyes open; Cub might not have been the only one to escape." Wolf slips on his goggles and starts up his ATV. They cough to life, and we quickly roar out into the desert. The machines are cumbersome in the sand, and the wind throws everything up into our faces – but it's faster than walking.

Our search pattern is less than adequate. With only four men and such an expansive area, it's mostly a lot of zigzagging over areas and squinting for a misshapen lump in the majority of the area we're never going to be able to properly search. The radio crackles to life, but the ATV is too noisy. I grind to a halt, ignoring the sand that spits out behind the wheels, and turn off the engine. The radio crackles again.

"Repeat," Snake says. "I found him. Cub is down but alive."

Somehow, miraculously, our haphazard search pattern seems to be enough. "Alright," Wolf says on the radio. "Pack him up and meet at the RV. Let's get him home."


End file.
